Flicker
by Aeria
Summary: SPOILERS: for episode 5. In particular an image of Kurt and Blaine shown in the Australian promo. Beyond that...Kurt/Blaine fluffsmut.


SPOILERS for episode 5...if you don't know what's coming, don't read this. In particular this is based off a scene shown for a brief second in the Australian promo for the episode. I am headcanoning so hard. If you want more there are about 11k words of this kind of headcanon/fic on my tumblr at doonarose. Enjoy...

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><p>When they get to Blaine's room, Kurt freaks out. Not a massive freakout by any measure, but the quiet, content, blissful glances he'd been throwing at Blaine as they gripped each other's hands intermittently on the drive home…it's gone. Kurt's eyes are flickering around the room instead and Blaine's guiltily relieved because he feels it in his spine, too. The not-quite-sureness of it. Not of whether it's right and time and ready. But the <em>how<em> of it.

They stand just inside the doorway of Blaine's bedroom and stare, together, at the bed. At the beautifully smooth covers and sheet, at the four pillows angled perfectly against the headboard.

Kurt's eyes flicker again, this time to Blaine and then to the window where just the last rays of sunlight are sneaking through the curtains. Then back to Blaine who's staring and looking wide-eyed and cautious and a bit in awe. Kurt thinks, anyway.

Strangely it's Kurt who asks, "Nervous?" with that high-pitched edge that says the joke isn't entirely as light-hearted as he wants it to seem.

And Blaine laughs because he'd wanted to ask Kurt but had been too…nervous to. Then he nods. "Yeah." He grabs at Kurt's hand again and feels himself settle a little, heart still racing, sweat on the back of his neck. "This is huge, Kurt," he reveals.

Kurt nods and bites his lip, angles himself in a little around and now his gaze flickers down to Blaine's mouth. "What do you…" he trails off, realizing how forward and okay he sounds. "What do you want to do?" he asks, blushes, smiles and bites his lip harder.

Blaine groans and Kurt's only ever heard him do that against his mouth, when things are so hot he can't concentrate. Now he sees the flicker of Blaine's eyelids and the strain in his neck and Kurt's mind flies to a dozen naked, desperate images. He blushes harder.

"Everything," Blaine mumbles—he was thinking the same too—and falls in, kisses Kurt softly across the mouth but crowds his hips in closer than he'd usually let himself.

And even while Kurt's cheeks burn and his mind reels, his breath too short for so little contact, his hands are at Blaine's hips and instead of just holding, he's playing with the material of his shirt and shifting his hands across the softness of it. Spreading them across the small of Blaine's back and pulling his forward.

Blaine gasps and Kurt stares at him. "What's underneath this?" he asks before he realizes that's a strange thing to ask.

"Tank," Blaine mumbles, staring too hard at Kurt's mouth.

But Kurt _wants_. Beyond the nerves and the awkwardness and the not-quite-being-sure. And he yanks the material up, slow enough that Blaine can raise his arms but fast enough that it's off, suddenly, and with only a half-second's consideration, allowed to fall to the floor.

Blaine stares at him and it's almost like he's seeing something remarkable. But it's just Kurt, blushing and smiling while his eyes dart down and start sliding across Blaine's exposed shoulders, the angle of his chest, the tendons of his neck. Blaine lets him look and tries not to fidget: Kurt's seen him in less, they went swimming over the summer a half-dozen times. But never with intent.

Kurt licks his lips and Blaine swallows and it's audible.

When Kurt looks back up Blaine says, "Hi," and Kurt laughs.

"Layers," Blaine says, wistfully, a hand tracing the seem of Kurt's vest, the sentiment making Kurt's breath catch in a giggle.

Then Blaine's hands at the buttons, pulling them lose while Kurt gets lost in the angles of his fingers working on his clothes and Blaine gets lost in the smell of Kurt so close.

The vest pushed off and back and onto the floor and Blaine notices that Kurt doesn't care.

The buttons on his shirt, just the top ones but they're all done up and they need to not be to get it over Kurt's head. Fidgety things and Kurt's breathing hard as Blaine concentrates and pulls them free.

"What's—"

Kurt answers quickly, "A shirt," and Blaine's huffing at him as he moves quickly, pulling the top layer free from his pants and up and up and over his head.

The simple white shirt beneath it rides up and Blaine's breath catches mid-grumble about 'layers' again as he sees the pale stretched skin beneath.

Then they're staring again and Blaine's reaching out and touching the belt of Kurt's pants, Kurt's reaching out and splaying a hand hot over Blaine's stomach and it's a strange stalemate for second after second.

"Still nervous?" Kurt asks.

"Yeah," Blaine says, still on a laugh. "Yeah, we are. I think we're meant to be."

Kurt nods and his bare toes scrunch into the carpet. "Come with me?" he asks.

Blaine doesn't hesitate but steals a kiss before Kurt's hand finds his again and he's pulling him towards the bed.

They fall then, onto the sheets, still mostly clothed but vibrating with it and they both feel desperate. It's not sexy yet. It's not that frantic, sharp throb deep in their stomachs, making their cocks hard and their balls ache. They just want close, more, everything, _now_.

They lie side by side and stare and Kurt wriggles in, reaches out and grabs at Blaine's waistband, pulls him in. Still side by side but closer and then closer still and when Kurt's hand caresses down Blaine's cheek, his jaw, Blaine's hand comes up to wrap around Kurt's wrist and hold the touch there a second longer and nuzzle and arch into it.

Then he brings Kurt's hand down, across his heart again and he slides as close as he can, forehead to forehead, nose to nose, eyes still locked and lets Kurt feel his heartbeat. Lets Kurt's hand slide to wrap around his shoulder as they watch each other. Blaine's pulse still strong under Kurt's palm, Kurt's pulse matching beneath Blaine's fingertips.

Blaine bites his tongue to stop the admission because this is meant to be _it_. Then he changes his mind and decides he's never ever going to bite his tongue in front of Kurt again. He stutters out and he sounds even more nervous now and it has nothing to do with the sex. "I could lie here like this all night."

And Kurt sighs, so happy and nuzzles in, tilts his head and agrees with a hum and then kisses Blaine. Soft and slow and it goes on and on with little presses of mouths, squeezes of their hands against each other, entirely innocent and content until it isn't.

And Blaine's tongue is on Kurt's lips and then inside his mouth and Kurt is pressing his own tongue back, letting slip a moan and then he feels that ache. Crashing and meshing with the contentment and the bliss of being together. The ache in his stomach and he _wants_ and Blaine kisses back and wants as well and Kurt wishes they were naked and grins because they will be and lets his hips rock.

He takes a deep breath against Blaine's mouth, Blaine's teeth content to nip at his lip as he sucks in air. Then he rocks harder, pressed to Blaine's side and then over as he lets himself slide up, straddle him, legs around, over and swallows the moan Blaine makes with a grin.

And he doesn't even care that he's still nervous.


End file.
